


Socky

by Watergirl1968



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Hand Jobs, M/M, fantasies, pandemic au, sticky socks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:27:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24299581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Watergirl1968/pseuds/Watergirl1968
Summary: Eren's Oma had told him that a cure for sore, dry hands was to sleep with your hands inside of Vaseline-filled socks. All fine and well, unless you have a hard-on, and a little blond teasing you...
Relationships: Armin Arlert/Eren Yeager
Comments: 8
Kudos: 75





	Socky

Eren ran a finger across the back of his hands: dry, coarse and puckered as walnuts. Two small cuts had formed in the creases of his knuckles. Not a big deal, he mused, or was it? At this stage, the world held more questions than answers.

The bedroom he shared with Armin was painted a warm putty colour; Eren had handcrafted metal pendant lamps which hung on either side of the bed. Armin had his bedside light on. He sat, cross-legged, laptop and a spew of notes in front of him. He tapped on a page with the eraser-end of his pencil _dit-dit-dit-dit_.

Eren smiled.

He flexed his hands; they burned a little, and the wrinkles thus caused remained on the back of his hand momentarily before melting away. “Ow,” he muttered.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

Socks, Eren’s Oma had recommended. You slather your hands with Vaseline, and cover them with cotton socks for the night. It helps to restore them. Oma ought to know; she’d worked in a munitions factory during the Second World War, in Ajax. Eren sighed. Here we are, in another war of sorts.

He opened the medicine chest and pulled out a jar of Vaseline. Opening it, he was dismayed to find only scrapings inside. Damn. He swiped the jar out thoroughly, laving his sandpapery skin with the contents. He tilted his head, spying a tube of lubricant. Huh. That should top up the Vaseline nicely.

He took out the light blue tube, spurting the contents across his knuckles and mixing it with the Vaseline. The smell caused his belly to tighten pleasantly. He rolled some clean sweat socks onto his hands and clumsily turned off the bathroom light.

“Are you done in there?” he asked Armin, climbing into bed and rolling onto his side.

Armin’s lips were moving and he frowned, engrossed. “I….what? Yes, I’m good.” He turned, favouring Eren with a small smile. His eyebrows shot up. “Oh! Look at you…” he snickered.

Eren grinned and waved one of his sock-puppet hands at Armin. “Hi, Bugs…”

“I hope it works,” Armin said. He shut his laptop and settled under the covers, collecting his notes onto his chest to re-read them one last time.

Eren watched him quietly. Big eyes, sweet little nose. One of Eren's sock-puppet hands slid under the covers, tickling Armin’s thigh.

“Don’t,” Armin said around the pencil in his mouth.

“Hey, Bugs…” Eren bit the naked shoulder gently.

“No.”

Eren stuck his lower lip out. “You mean like, “ _Play_ ‘no’…or _NO_ ‘no’…”

“Noooooooooo,” Armin growled, reaching up to flick off the light. “I need to sleep. Doctor Hanje has to deliver this speech in the morning and I still don’t have a closing.”

Eren held up one of the socks. “And,” chirped the sock, “In closing, these are my final comments…as delivered by Ontario Chief Science Officer Dr. Zoe Hanje…and as written by Mr. Armin Alert in bed. With his gorgeous lover, Eren. No: his gorgeous, talented artist lover. Eren.”

“Go to sleep.”

“Kiss Socky goodnight!”

Armin rolled closer cupping Eren’s face in the dark and kissing his lips softly.

“Socky, too.”

“No!!!”

Armin flipped over, pulling the duvet tight.

Eren lay on his back. His hands inside the sock were warm, and oozed when he wiggled his fingers. The lube had a lemongrass scent. It reminded him of last summer, after a day at the Island which had burned Armin's skin an angry pink, except for his spectacular white bottom…

“Mmmmm.”

Armin nestled into his pillow. Outside, it was beginning to rain. He sighed. The press conference at the Ministry would be all umbrellas and questions his team had no answers to as yet.

Beside him, Eren’s fidgeting stilled. Armin let out a long sigh, waiting for sleep.

He could hear Eren’s soft inhale, and exhale. Inhale…and breath held. And then the tentative, rhythmic dipping of the mattress. A soft squelch.

“Eren!”

“Hmmm?”

“Are you…you’re not having a...a _session_ over there, are you?”

“Oh…n-no….” the mattress moved again, as a soft _fap-fap-fap_ whispered beneath the covers.

Armin rolled over to investigate. The streetlight limned Eren’s profile as he lay on his back, head tilted and eyes closed, dark lashes sweeping his cheeks.

“Ah…” Eren whispered, appreciating his own efforts, “Ah…”

Armin frowned, a mix of curiosity and tension pooling in his belly.

Eren turned his head slowly, eyes opening, resting on Armin. “Fuck,” he swore softly. “Bugs, this feels incredible…fuck…”

Armin lay his head back on the pillow, not breaking eye contact. “I’m sorry,” Eren whispered. “I’ll go into the den. I know you’re not into it…”

“It’s okay,” Armin replied gently, “It’s okay…stay…”

“Mmm,” Eren closed his eyes and smiled contentedly. Growing too warm, he pushed the duvet down to his thighs.

Armin saw that he’d turned the sock inside-out on his hand and was stroking himself lovingly with the Vaseline-slathered terrycloth.

“Fuck…” Eren panted, rubbing the ridge of his cock with a finger, teasing himself. He resumed stroking his erection then stopped, squeezing the root of his cock.

“Is this going to take until next Tuesday?” Armin wanted to know.

“Wha?”

Armin’s tone softened, “It _is_ hot watching you tease yourself…”

Eren closed his eyes again and rubbed the tender underside of his cock with his thumb. “Yeah,” he breathed, enjoying some sweet scene in the recesses of his imagination, “Oh baby…”

Armin propped himself up on an elbow. “What do you fantasize about?”

Erin’s eyes snapped open, staring blankly at the ceiling. “What do I…uh…”

He swallowed. “I dunno. Stuff…”

“Like?”

“Like…” his hand slowed. “Like watching. Watching you,” he wet his lips. “You know how you like it sometimes, when I smack your ass?”

“Yeah.”

“I imagine me watching you…like not participating, but watching. You getting your ass spanked.”

Armin grinned in the darkness. “Oh?”

“Yeah,” Eren swirled his slick hand, stroking himself from root to tip. He warmed to his subject “I can see you…buck naked, draped over a man’s knees, squirming and getting a spanking…”

“Really?” Armin bit his lip, enthralled. “Tell me more!”

“He’s…he’s a handsome man, just come home from a dinner engagement…wearing a tux, immaculate, sleeves rolled up, shoes shined…and you’re like, his naughty little boy…” Eren broke off, fisting himself harder, writhing with pleasure.

“Who is this man?” Armin asked.

“Oh...oh, baby…”

“Eren!”

“It’s Mr. Smith, upstairs!”

Armin let out a delighted shriek. “Whaaaat? Mr. Smith!”

Eren deflated like a balloon. His hand stilled.

“Are you still thinking about that?”

“No. Not anymore. You kind of wrecked it for me…”

Armin inched closer. “I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not…”

“No - I am..It’s just… _Mr. Smith_. I can never look at him again, now…Oh my _God_ , Eren…” he paused. “Do I like my spanking?”

“You love it so much…”

Armin bit his lip. “What else do you think about?”

Eren was silent for some moments, cupping his balls, then touching the very tip of his cock, pulling and rubbing gently.

“I dunno…”

“I bet I know…”

Eren snickered. “That time.”

“Yeah, _that time…”_

_They’d been in the living room of their third floor apartment. Eren had Armin bent over the back of the couch, legs spread, fucking him. Armin had whined at the burn, then softened as Eren’s cock filled him. Out of the window, they’d both been able to see Marco, the building superintendent. He'd had his Jeep parked in the parking lot, and was stripping quickly out of his soccer kit and into warmup clothes. He’d dropped his shorts, just as his phone rang. Then, incredibly, half-naked-Marco had stood there, leaning against the car door and chatting on his phone, his jockstrap framing his freckled, muscular Adonis ass to perfection._

_“Uh!” Armin had grunted at Eren’s appreciative thrusts, as the sight inflamed them both. Eren had grabbed Armin’s hips, lifting him onto his toes and fucking him at an angle that had Armin crying out with pleasure._

_The unsuspecting athlete was engrossed in his call, one hand absently wandering over his butt cheek, pulling the elastic of his jock and snapping it softly._

_“Oh, fucking look,” Eren had panted, “That’s it….that’s it…oh fuuuuck!”_

“The time,” Armin wriggled closer, “Poor guy…he never knew he had an audience…”

Armin nuzzled Eren’s neck, sucking at the salty skin. “Sweaty,” he murmured. “Come, baby…stroke your cock…come…” his own body was aching now. “That’s it, come for me…”

Eren resumed his rhythm, strong fingers tightening, the scent of his lover spurring him on. He cried out in the darkness as he came, his hand slowing, milking himself. He exhaled, bled of all tension.

He reached over, snaking an arm around Armin, pulling him close. “Be nice to me,” he murmured against Armin’s hair, “Or I’ll send you upstairs to Mr. Smith.”

Armin slid one leg over Eren’s prone form, raising himself until he was straddling Eren, sitting on his torso, cock standing at attention.

“You said ‘no’.” Eren reminded him.

“That expired,” said Armin.

Eren’s eyes were soft, sated. “Did it?” He took the sock off of his other hand, turning it inside out, as he’d done the first one. He pushed it back onto his hand, grazing Armin’s pink cock with it.

“You’ll like this,” he whispered. He closed his hand, and slowly stroked the entire length of Armin’s erection. “Doesn’t that feel _so_ good?”

Armin whimpered, raising himself on his knees a little, pushing into Eren’s slick hand. His eyes slid shut, mouth open in a silent ‘oh’.

“I know,” Eren smiled in the dark, “it’s so…. _so_ good…and I know why you’re sitting on me like that.”

“Uuuhh”

“You want me to tickle your ass while I get you off…”

“Yeah,” Armin breathed.

Eren freed his other hand, fingertips ghosting over the smooth buttocks. He tickled Armin’s small cheeks, stroking his cock with the other hand, and soon Armin was panting, arching his back and moaning.

“Good?” Eren thumbed the soft flesh beneath the head of Armin’s cock. He spanked Armin’s ass.

“Yes!” Armin gasped.

“You warn me…”

“Yeah…” Armin thrust greedily into Eren’s hand, bracing a hand on Eren’s shoulder. “Oh…oh, God!”

__________

The shower was warm, steam soothing away the sweat. Eren held Armin under the spray, soaping his back absently.

“You said you’d warn me,” he growled.

“I did warn you,”

“‘Oh’ is not a warning,” Eren chided. “Eren, I’m coming. In your face. Move your head…that is a warning…”

“Sorry,” Armin sucked water off of Eren’s collarbone. “But you know. By now, you should know…”

“I know a great many things,” Eren concurred.

“About the neighbours…” Armin giggled.

“Yes, about the neighbours!”


End file.
